Letters of Us
by Leopardheart-Naux-Kadaj
Summary: Going through the alphabet, taking a letter and find a word to describe Reno/Rufus. Er, I suck at summaries. It's better than my summary. : Read and review please! Rated T, may be bumped to M in later chapters.
1. A for Allow

Letters of Us

**This is my first Reno/Rufus story. I wrote this a while back - December, maybe. I'm just getting around to typing it. I have several stories I'm working on right now, so my From the Wrecking fans, I'll work on that next after my Kadaj/Cloud fic, I swear! Then I have ****another**** Reno/Rufus story somewhere to finish the first chapter of. And a birthday Axel/OC for my friend Ryu. **

**Anyway... Reno/Rufus fans, enjoy. Every chapter is an idea/drabble having to do with a word starting with a letter of the alphabet, in order. First is "A for Allowed." This chapter is rated T for swearing and sexual themes, but nothing actually done.**

~0~

(Reno)

^-Allowed-^

Everything I do has to do with being allowed, whether I'm allowed to do something or not. I have to know whether I'm allowed to think or do or say certain things. There are certain things I am allowed to do, some things I'm not, and some things I'm not allowed to, but do anyway and manage to get away with.

I'm not allowed to make a display of my affection for him in public. It has something to do with his reputation - pompous little rich brat and all - my reputation - slums-of-Junon street-rat known for sleeping around - and affection being a distraction. But alone in his office, door locked, I'm allowed to kiss him right on the mouth, and trust me, I do. As soon as he puts down the pen, done with work for the day and I've clocked in, finally done with my mission, I'm in his lap, kissing those thin lips till they're bruised and touching all that's mine.

I, personally, like it. Rufus is always so tense, maybe even scared because, what if someone walks in? What is someone comes in to ask Rufus a question about company policies or something equally stupid and annoying, and they see me grinding on him, him tugging my bright red hair, kissing me into a drug-like high? I like the danger of that situation, the adrenaline. So what if someones sees? Whether their President prefers men or women, and in this case it's men, shouldn't change their opinion of him. Rufus being a homosexual doesn't make him weaker, or any less capable of striking fear into the minds and hearts of his people, what with his cold nature and colder, pale stone-colored eyes.

Ahem.

I'm not really allowed to even imply that I'm with him in any way that isn't strictly business in public, but when I happen to brush by him or reach behind him to grab my order forms and I come tantalizingly close to him, his body doesn't argue with it, even if his eyes do. Or when I chew my pen top sensually out of boredom at our long, pointless meetings, _mmm_, he really doesn't argue with that, aha. I recieve a lecture later on the danger of the matter, the risk, what we'd lose, and I sit through it (_I know, Rufus, I know) _before bringing up my point. (_So what if they know?)_

Safe in the security of his own home, he lets me do as I please to him. I can kiss, suck, touch, bite - so long as it doesn't leave a mark for the press and their newspapers and cameras to see. I can pin him down and make love to him. But the funny thing is, by the time he allows me to do such things, I can only what he asks of me. Without realizing it, or pardon, acknowledging it, I've let Rufus control me, made me his puppet, to the point that I _need_ orders. I need him to command me.

_Reno, kiss me._

_Reno, bruise me._

_Reno, fuck me._

And very rarely, I'll hear a: _Reno, hold me._

I'm allowed to see Rufus when he's weak, when he's hurt, when he's needy. To date, Rufus has never cried, not even I've had the honor of seeing the man of stone shed a single tear. (_Are you even human?) _Rufus has trembled senselessly though, glassy eyes out of focus. Rufus has screamed and writhed in his uneasy sleep, haunted by nightmares he won't speak of. This happened alot during the days of the Geostigma, and the weeks following it, and not even Tseng was allowed to see him then. So who was there to calm his shivers and hold him as he shrieked? I am. I'm the only one who's allowed to.

One day, I won't be though. It hurts to see someone you deeply care for be so broken, y'know? (_Of course, don't all Turks feel this way? We're all undeniably loyal to our boss - over time we've actually grown to truly care for him.) _One day, I won't be a Turk; I'll be older, not as strong, or agile, or deadly. Will I still be allowed to be with him then? Or will he find some new pretty boytoy to waste his time on, someone who can't give him what I can? Will he be able to trade his familar life of secrecy and lies for true adoration and affection? I want to show the world, not hide in the dark. I want to place a hand on his waist, and if any one else tries to touch him, I want to have permission to break their little fingers off out of jealousy, not instinct. Ha, or even better - shove all of Rufus's stupid, time-consuming endless stacks of paper to the floor, then wipe his mind of the mess I've created by bending him over the desk to be properly fucked.

Of course, I'm not allowed to think that way. _(About leaving him, not bending him over the desk, aha.) _I could never leave Rufus. Not only am I not allowed to, I just... can't. I belong to him, physically, mentally and emotionally. I could plan on saying no, telling I'm fed up with being a closet affair, of being a guilty pleasure, deny him what he wants and/or needs, to go against him, but when the moment arrives and I look that young blonde man in those chilly ice-like eyes and to try to tell him, _no, stop, I can't -_ and the words just die on me. I can bat his slender, pale hands off my sharp hips for a few mometns to deny him, but eventually I let him touch me. _(But I don't bottom, yo.)_

Everything is about whether I'm allowed to with Rufus when it comes down to it.

**Alright, once I get some other fics done, I'll update the second chapter. It's called "Bleed" and I've got it about a quarter done. I'll let you wonder what the plot is. I thank all people who will review~!**

**~Naux**


	2. B for Bleed

**Author's Note: I'm so sorry I left this hanging for so long. Ugh. I am terrible. Um. Well. I've had a lot going on emotionally in my life - a suicide attempt, hospitalizations, depression, therapy, school, and my dad on deployment to name a few - but I finally have inspiration for this.**

**This is "B for Bleed" WARNING: This can be triggering to some viewers, I guess. Rating is M. Intense sexual situations. Swearing. Blood**.

* * *

><p>You know, there's a legend about the boss. That he's never bled or cried, that's he's made a stone. Hell, some even think he's a god! What a joke. I have personal first hand accounts that none of that is true. I just wish it wasn't the way I had seen it yo.<p>

Rufus had finally heard those rumors. And he asked me to prove them wrong. Unlike some people I've met, he's thinks too highly of himself to put a blade to his skin, and if something like family dying won't make him cry, I don't know what would. So he's asked me to make him bleed.

Now, Rufus and I have our ups and downs, and I generally hate the job I do, the looks I get for it, but I still care for in Rufus in the end, y'know? I won't get into this mushy lovey-dovey shit that teenage girls are always lookin' to see, because that ain't how it is. I love him, I do. It's designed into me. I'm a couple years older than him, and I took the job early on, back when he was still Vice. Long story short, I've saved his ass more than once, over the years I've kept watch over him. I don't know how the other Turks feel, but I love him. More than anyone else ever could. So imagine me when he asks me to hurt him, to beat him, to break him, make him bleed because he wants to feel human.

I told him fuck no, he was ill. He just needed some rest, maybe a drink or six to calm down. But he kept asking. I'd say he begged, but that's not Rufus. Rufus doesn't beg. He wouldn't even if his life was on the line.

_"Reno, this is an order. Make me bleed."_

That was a low move. A very low move. A fact about us Turks is is that we can't deny an order. He could ask us to slit our wrists, and we'd do it if it was an order. Turk orders are not to be disobeyed. It's how we're trained. I didn't want to hurt him. God knows I didn't want to. I hate to say it but, I did as I was told. I yanked off his shirt after taking out a blade and pressed it to his chest.

_"You sure boss?"_

Rufus nodded, and the certainty in his cold blue eyes made me shiver. I cut him, swift and sharp, across his chest. One cut, maybe that'd be enough. But it wasn't. His hand went over mine, long slender fingers wrapping over my own and moved my hand to cut again. The look on his face, the pure relief on it as he looked down and saw the crimson leak across pallid flesh was frightening, and that's saying something. I can watch a kill, hell, commit a murder, and not even blink. But this... this was too much. And it was only the beginning.

Another cut, another stream of blood. With a quiet, "lower" I carefully cut across his stomach, once, twice. God, what am I doing? This body is perfect and I'm damaging it. I'm hurting him, the man I'm paid and I live to protect, to watch. Something's wrong with me, yo, if I can do this. I'm so sick, man. Rufus closes his eyes, mouth open a little; god he's enjoying this. There's something wrong with us both.

_"That's enough."_

I drop the blade, my fists clenching, looking away from the wounds. I have this urge to wrap him up, to make him better. How did I do this to him? But I was thankful he let me stop.

"_Break me Reno."_

I swear to god, if he asks me to break his bones, I'm walkin' out, order or no order. I tell him I can't, this was enough. I need to bandage these wounds. But Rufus ain't letting me off that easy. Oh no. He's a bit too cruel for that. He's got some sick plan up his sleeve. He yanks me up by my hair, a soft gasp escaping me - so I like my hair tugged, a lot of people do but this is not the time - and pulls me close enough to whisper in my ear. Another turn on. What's wrong with you, sir?

_"Rape me, Reno."_

No way in hell. There are things I've done that I'm not proud of - dropping the Plate, for instance - but even for a slum brat Turk like me, I'm not going to go so far as to inflict something like that on someone, force myself onto someone who doesn't want it. No, I just can't. I tell him I can't. But fuck if he doesn't know me better than anyone else. He knows all the little dirty things that get me hot, and he does 'em. Tugging my hair, kissing my throat, licking at the shell of my ear and tugging my earring with his teeth - fuck.

My hands are finding their way into his hair and I'm kissing him, fierce and hard. Cause I'm angry dammit and now he's got me all aroused now. I'm a little fucked up - raised that way and made a different brand of mentally damaged by the job I've taken - so let's just say sex is my way out. Rufus wants it, god he's physically begging for it if not vocally. Hands are snaking down to his pants now, tearing 'em off and spreading his legs.

I'm telling myself this is just a physical release for us both, that I don't really want this. No way, no how would I take advantage of the boss. I'm just doing as I'm told, just like I always do. Rufus keeps pushing for harder, for rougher, even though he's screaming, tearing at my shoulders in a claw-like grip. I'm trying to block out his voice, trying not to let this feel so good. There's something wrong with me. The longer I do it, the more the pleasure creeps in. Noises escape my throat, words he asks for muffled in the flesh of his neck. I'm sick aren't I? All the while, through all the hurt, the hurt I can see so clearly, he's enjoying it. I never really saw him as twisted until now. There's something wrong with him. But it doesn't matter. I'm too far gone. And so is he. There's something wrong with us.

I try not to think as I bring him to the brink, sending him shuddering over the edge. I try to not think of my own pleasure, the shudder of my own body as I tumble after. I pull away, and see the blood smeared on the white canvas of his skin like an abstract painting. I look down and see it on my own scarred skin, down my torso, between my legs. I'm sick with myself, but it's so hard to keep that in mind when he looks so pleased, yo. His eyes are closed, but he's smiling. It's little, but that's how he is. And I want to be happy, but the blood's distracting. Yet I don't even care. Just to see him happy almost makes it worth it.

There's something with me. I need locked up.

I take a hot shower and bandage him up, clean him up. I do it wordlessly, until the task is done. Rufus calls me close to him, as if to cuddle me close. I kind of tuck us in under the sheets - new ones, since the old ones are stained now - and hold him. He touches his nose to my ear.

_"Thank you. That made me feel better."_

I don't really say anything at first, just give a tiny nod. I tell him to go to bed, he really needs to sleep. Once he's under, totally asleep, way too far gone to ever hear the words I'm saying, I clutch him a little closer, my chin on his shoulder. And I tell him I'm sorry. Over and over. But I don't know who I'm really apologizing to or why. Him for the pain, or to myself for the compromising of the little morals I had left? I don't even know now.

Don't tell me Rufus ShinRa doesn't bleed because he does. I've seen it, felt it against my skin. I cringe a little inside when I hear the rumor. Because I know it ain't true. Rufus is human. A really fucked-up human, but one all the same.


End file.
